Broken Toys
by Simlead
Summary: Originally called 'Toys' but the title ran away with me. Rated T with some suggestive sentences and kissing scenes. Written as a present for the wonderful Tel Nok Shock. :) 'John would forever be finding and breaking new toys. But his favourite was always an easy choice.' Please enjoy!


**A/N: This one goes to Tel Nok Shock because a) I'm a pushover when my head's exploding and b) you're a amazing, wonderful friend who absolutely deserved this recently. With extra sparks on top. :P I think the conversation when my head was exploding went along the lines of me promising that John would get a break in 'Night Begins Here' and then saying I'd write a Sparky one shot if Tel Nok didn't call Russia. XD This is intended to be light(er than me), a little fluffy (:D) and angsty (:DD) and just fun (no flames, you fire demons). Pre-established Sparky (dating or married - you decide). I own nothing (sadly) and I really should stop waking up at ungodly hours. Enjoy!**

* * *

John grinned when he stepped into the small storage room, eyes skating over the SGC standard containers. Each shipment from Earth was grouped according to function, as per usual, and piled in small blocks that wouldn't topple onto some of the smaller personnel. He chuckled.

_And some of them taller ones, _he mused, smirking as he remembered the 'bump' (for lack of a better word) on McKay's head after he'd taken the brunt of two overly sized food boxes. And provided the rest of the team with a short-term source of enjoyment - after all, Sheppard's favourite past time with the scientist involved something along the lines of having a laugh at his expense. With a shake of the head, John wandered in between the clusters of supplies. The food section, which was always, unsurprisingly, the largest, took up almost all of the right side of the room. Atlantis' maintenance equipment was snugly positioned beside the 'household' things. And last of all was John's favourite part of the deliveries - the sport items.

He'd made it his 'duty' to snoop through them (with a little _help_) and 'check' them. That is, if checking involved sending tennis balls flying around. John cranked the lid off of the nearest box, delved inside and pulled out a pair of boxing gloves.

"Neat," he chuckled. Beneath them, he found another pair and various other useful pieces. Feeling as though he'd hit the jackpot, he scooped them out onto the floor and sifted through the pile.

"Having fun, are we?" an amused voice travelled from the doorway to where he knelt before the pile. He glanced over his shoulder and a grin spread across his face. There Elizabeth stood, head tilted to the side with her signature smile. She'd long since gotten used to his childish behaviour when confronted with something new and brilliant - the one thing she hadn't _quite _become accustomed to was how infectious it became when one spent too much time around him.

And sleeping in the same quarters as John Sheppard usually qualified as spending too much time around him.

_Package deal, _she snorted inwardly as she approached him. He stretched up to full height and reached out to grab her, pulling her flush against him the moment she was within arm's reach. Their lips met and all thoughts of immaturity left her mind, in a rush, to escape the tidal wave of affection that flooded her body. His kiss was gentle at first, one hand snaking up into her hair. His free arm snaked around her waist as hers knotted themselves into the messy black muddle atop his head. Elizabeth thought she felt a flash of hunger in his eyes - for something other than food - but he broke the kiss off a second later, and the moment was forgotten.

"Morning," the flyboy grin returned.

"Good morning. What was that for?" she half-giggled.

"I'm just happy, that's all. Can't I kiss the woman I love when I'm happy?" a well-practiced eyebrow rose.

"Of course you can... But someone might think you were trying to convince me to do something."

"Actually..." heat rushed to John's cheeks. He'd been caught red-handed before he'd even started his on-the-spot plan. "There is one tiny thing."

"Just a _tiny_ thing? Why, I'm shocked," she sent him a gasp of mock horror.

"Damn, you know me too well," John muttered fondly and shook his head. "Alright, do you want me to be straight with you?"

"Not in the mood for games today?" she enquired, eyeing him with curiosity. John would usually jump at the chance to play a round of their little teasing game.

"I am. Maybe, I just don't want to play that kind of game. Perhaps I want to play," he hoisted up the boxing gloves, "this type."

Elizabeth let out a nervous laugh. Their relationship had always been lacking in the violence department - unless you counted Friday nights, obviously.

_Don't be ridiculous,_ she berated herself, _John would never hurt you._

"What do you say? Just for a bit - I'll go easy on you," he beamed hopefully. "Come on," he urged her on. Hesitating for only a moment, Elizabeth agreed and accepted the smaller pair of boxing gloves from him. The two took up stance and began to toss half-hearted punches around. John aimed a punch at his companion's shoulder, yelping when he was met with the ground instead. Cool grey flooring rushed up to his face. A soft giggling sound came from behind him and he felt his partner kneel at his side. Elizabeth placed a soothing hand on his back, whispering into his ear.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Her tone was amused but, nevertheless, there was an underlying layer of concern. He grunted and signalled his uncertainty with a shake of the hand, before rolling onto his front. "Staying there, are we?"

"Yep. Just call me next time the Wraith attack," he winked boyishly and made to push himself up. Before he'd reached a sitting position, a thought occurred to him as a mischievous glee spread - if she thought he was injured... It'd be the perfect plan, cliché but unexpected. He howled in pain, holding an arm over his ribcage to block out a false throbbing, and clenched his fists. A moment later, he heard Elizabeth utter his name worriedly. Her hand closed around the arm clutching his chest and pulled it delicately away.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked, leaning over him, millimetres away. "Do you need to go to the infirmary?"

"No, I... Just lean closer and I'll show you," he commanded. She nodded, shifted one of her legs to the other side of his and drew impossibly closer. Distracted momentarily by her proximity, John's attention took a few seconds to return to the task at hand. He leaned back, winding his arm around her shoulders for 'support', before he tugged her off balance. A startled squeak escaped her throat - Elizabeth fell flat against him. Stopping as their chins met, she felt his breath tickle her lips.

"Well, hello there..."

"John, stop it! Creepy voices are _not _a turn-on," she slapped his arm playfully.

"Well, I don't know what you think a turn-on is. I haven't seen you since _Monday_," John emphasised the aforementioned day of the week as though it made all the difference - to him, it certainly did.

"Don't be silly, we sleep in the same bed," she told him, swerving the solemn direction of the conversation. One that was occurring in spite of her still practically sitting on his stomach.

"And, by the time you get back, I'm always doing the 'sleep' part," he persisted. "There's always another report, another species, another incident that involves people blowing each other to kingdom come!"

"It'll blow ove-"

"And don't you dare say 'it'll blow over'. Nothing blows over in this place," he stared sternly at her. Elizabeth sighed and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I guess I have been distant, huh?" she smiled sweetly as the hand travelled up to frame his face. Previously, it had been a joke; he'd drag her away from her desk long into the night and make sure that she ate. Then they'd walk to their separate quarters, or (more recently) their _shared _quarters, and say goodnight. But he'd been warned off disturbing her work so the shared meal had evaporated. And, with it, the frivolity afterwards. All that had remained was the unconscious knowledge that she slept beside him every night.

"Woah, I, sorry..." both turned their heads when they heard the man in the doorway. McKay stood, halfway into the room, with his eyes wide and surprised - the kind of expression a teenager would have when they caught their parents doing something 'unsavoury'.

"McKay, not now... Can't you see we're having a moment?" John scowled, seeing Elizabeth scramble to her feet at the scientist's presence. She tugged on the hem of her t-shirt to erase the damage done by her tumble.

"I said I'm sorry. By the way, Elizabeth, there's some stuff I need you to look at. I left it in your office," and moments after Rodney had spoken, Elizabeth was at the door.

"I'll...go and get those done now."

Then she was gone.

"Wonderful work. Just brilliant, McKay," he scowled, fixing him with an almost murderous glare, before storming from the room and charging in the opposite direction. Rodney groaned - they weren't having a moment anymore.

* * *

The bed sheet was surprisingly comfortable against his uniform. That was the most coherent thing that ran through John's mind as he seated himself on the edge of the bed. Somehow, he'd failed to notice the umpteen times he'd fallen asleep on it in exactly the same outfit. Oh well, at least he always remembered the way to the room.

"John?" her call reached his ears before the tiny footsteps did. Her hands were joined in front of her and her expression was remorseful. Silently, she almost begged for a tiny bit of redemption.

"Hey," he mumbled as his gaze returned to the floor. The bed sunk down and he sensed her presence beside him. Her breath on skin. Her apologetic smile, visible at the edge of his vision.

"I know it was a mistake. Just-just forget this. Let's start again," she pleaded. A quivering hand entwined itself with his. He tightened his grip at once, finally turning to her.

"You won't run again?"

There was a painful silence in which his stare intensified as their hearts thundered as one.

"No," he let out a breath he hadn't even realised he was holding at her words. "Never again, I promise."

A shaky chuckle escaped his throat as he swept her into his arms. She tensed, surprised, but soon relaxed, snuggling into the embrace with her head nestled beneath his chin. John would forever be finding the newest amusement of the city - a new toy - and they would constantly break just in time for him to move onwards. Though, his favourite, broken or not, would always be Elizabeth. Always.

* * *

**A/N: What did you think? Was it too short? :/ Again, no flames and, please, let me keep the Stargate in my back garden - no, seriously, there's a giant (circular) trampoline base propped up against the fence in my garden. XD I hope you enjoyed it. See you soon!**


End file.
